Post by Tebooleh on Sept 12, 2023 3:08:32 GMT -5
Papaya Island Central Spaceport was loud. This was, in part, because the spaceport was so busy. It was a constant hub of activity, with passengers coming and going from one of the galaxy's premier vacation spots. And, in addition to passengers, there were the crews of starships, pilots and technicians that had to ensure their ships were refueled and seen to before the next load of interstellar tourists got on board. Not to mention dedicated staff for the spaceport itself, loading and unloading cargo, cleaning out passenger ships, arranging for further travel away from the spaceport, hauling people and objects from one side of the complex to the other. Then there were the various employees at the eateries and duty-free shops, who were busy ringing up customers or cooking food or gathering objects from the backs of their little stores. And, of course, vendors hawking all sorts of wares while trying to dodge the spaceport's on-duty security agents. And along with the chattering and shouting of crowds of people, there were the noises of machines. Little vehicles that hummed and beeped as they moved. The roar of engines from the many starships. The buzz of screens and systems and the hum of Air-Conditioners, and the pinging of intercoms announcing departure times, delays, and arrivals...
"What do you mean you will not let me through?! I DEMAND THAT YOU STEP ASIDE!"
And yet, despite the din, a three-eyed man's shouting carried over the halls and was heard by all.
Tebooleh, son of Ghanoush, was beyond annoyed. He'd been forced to surrender the last of the rations that his mother had prepared for his journey through space, apparently it was illegal to "import" the bread and dried meats he had brought, owing to some sort of "food safety standards". He'd also been told that he would have to divest himself of his sacred weapons, his dagger and his sword and his bow, along with his quiver of blessed arrows. And now, apparently, he was somehow legally classified as a weapon... who had to give an exact itinerary and sign some sort of temporary license. According to the three armored men, and the souless machine, in front of him, all of whom were well below Tebooleh's power level, there was some sort of "accords" that had been passed by the current President of Earth.
"Like we said, sir," the leader of the trio, a man with a big bushy mustache and a burly bod, began, "you have superhuman abilities that make you dangerous to others around you. This means-"
"I am human."
"What?"
"I said, 'I am human'..."
"O-... Okay?", said the second man... who looked rather frog-like with his long tongue and warts and green skin.
"So how can my abilities be 'superhuman'? How can I, a human, possess abilities that are, by definition, beyond my own grasp?"
"Listen here you wise-a-!"
The third man, a fellow with hair that was styled and dyed to look like purple flames raised a fist, seemingly about to throw a punch. Tebooleh grinned... His journey was a sacred thing, a trip to the various temples that his people had built, or their ruins, to meditate upon the Sacred Truth and to attempt to meditate upon the wisdom that had once been espoused at each site. As such, Tebooleh had several stipulations. He had to wear sacred garments, a white thobe robe and a matching keffiyeh headscarf, along with sandals made from blessed leather. He had to travel light, carrying no weapons beyond a staff. Other than the dried meat he had been given, he could not eat the flesh of any beast that he encountered. There were other rules, of course, but the most important one was that he could not start a fight, which was defined in the sacred texts as being the first to deliver a blow. However, if one of the guards threw the first punch...
The fist was stopped before it could be thrown. The leader had stepped out and took hold of his fellow officer's arm.
"We could argue semantics as much as you want, sir, but rules are rules. And you gotta fill out the paperwork that the bot has like everyone else with a power level over fifty."
"I agree that I could spend all day showing you the stupidity of your words. But I will not be signing your agreement or tell you where I am going."
"Excuse me?"
"I will not do as your ask. I defy you."
"You'd better not, or I'll-."
"Or you'll what...?"
The mustached man, the frog, and the purple-haired fellow all fell silent. Staring. Tebooleh stared back, narrowing all three of his eyes, while his bushy brows all furrowed... Then he took a sudden step toward the three security men. All three flinched and stepped back. Tebooleh's lips turned up into a wide, amused grin that showed lots of teeth. Then he laughed.
"Ha! I thought so. I will be going now, enjoy my mother's pastirma!"
And with that, Tebooleh made his way past the three men... across the space-port, and to the front doors. From there, he stepped into the street, carrying what few things he had brought with him. The trio of guards, left near the gate that Tebooleh had come from, looked at each other.
"Aren't you going to go stop him?", asked the purple-haired fellow.
"Hell no, he's got a power level of 24,000 and I have three kids. Just ping someone with a license to round him up."
The mustachioed man gestured at the frog-man to do that. The frog, ever dutiful, pulled forth a little tablet and began entering information.
"You got it boss!"
"Kiss-ass."
"What do you mean you will not let me through?! I DEMAND THAT YOU STEP ASIDE!"
And yet, despite the din, a three-eyed man's shouting carried over the halls and was heard by all.
Tebooleh, son of Ghanoush, was beyond annoyed. He'd been forced to surrender the last of the rations that his mother had prepared for his journey through space, apparently it was illegal to "import" the bread and dried meats he had brought, owing to some sort of "food safety standards". He'd also been told that he would have to divest himself of his sacred weapons, his dagger and his sword and his bow, along with his quiver of blessed arrows. And now, apparently, he was somehow legally classified as a weapon... who had to give an exact itinerary and sign some sort of temporary license. According to the three armored men, and the souless machine, in front of him, all of whom were well below Tebooleh's power level, there was some sort of "accords" that had been passed by the current President of Earth.
"Like we said, sir," the leader of the trio, a man with a big bushy mustache and a burly bod, began, "you have superhuman abilities that make you dangerous to others around you. This means-"
"I am human."
"What?"
"I said, 'I am human'..."
"O-... Okay?", said the second man... who looked rather frog-like with his long tongue and warts and green skin.
"So how can my abilities be 'superhuman'? How can I, a human, possess abilities that are, by definition, beyond my own grasp?"
"Listen here you wise-a-!"
The third man, a fellow with hair that was styled and dyed to look like purple flames raised a fist, seemingly about to throw a punch. Tebooleh grinned... His journey was a sacred thing, a trip to the various temples that his people had built, or their ruins, to meditate upon the Sacred Truth and to attempt to meditate upon the wisdom that had once been espoused at each site. As such, Tebooleh had several stipulations. He had to wear sacred garments, a white thobe robe and a matching keffiyeh headscarf, along with sandals made from blessed leather. He had to travel light, carrying no weapons beyond a staff. Other than the dried meat he had been given, he could not eat the flesh of any beast that he encountered. There were other rules, of course, but the most important one was that he could not start a fight, which was defined in the sacred texts as being the first to deliver a blow. However, if one of the guards threw the first punch...
The fist was stopped before it could be thrown. The leader had stepped out and took hold of his fellow officer's arm.
"We could argue semantics as much as you want, sir, but rules are rules. And you gotta fill out the paperwork that the bot has like everyone else with a power level over fifty."
"I agree that I could spend all day showing you the stupidity of your words. But I will not be signing your agreement or tell you where I am going."
"Excuse me?"
"I will not do as your ask. I defy you."
"You'd better not, or I'll-."
"Or you'll what...?"
The mustached man, the frog, and the purple-haired fellow all fell silent. Staring. Tebooleh stared back, narrowing all three of his eyes, while his bushy brows all furrowed... Then he took a sudden step toward the three security men. All three flinched and stepped back. Tebooleh's lips turned up into a wide, amused grin that showed lots of teeth. Then he laughed.
"Ha! I thought so. I will be going now, enjoy my mother's pastirma!"
And with that, Tebooleh made his way past the three men... across the space-port, and to the front doors. From there, he stepped into the street, carrying what few things he had brought with him. The trio of guards, left near the gate that Tebooleh had come from, looked at each other.
"Aren't you going to go stop him?", asked the purple-haired fellow.
"Hell no, he's got a power level of 24,000 and I have three kids. Just ping someone with a license to round him up."
The mustachioed man gestured at the frog-man to do that. The frog, ever dutiful, pulled forth a little tablet and began entering information.
"You got it boss!"
"Kiss-ass."
Tebooleh has arrived on Earth! Thread PL: 24,000! He's also breaking the law, just by being there! CAN ANYONE STOP HIM?!
WC: 951